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“Uh…” I realized I’d been standing there holding the same bomb for several minutes, no closer to finishing the job. Embarrassed, I lowered my head to my work and kept my mouth shut.
When I finished, I looked up and realized she was no longer working behind me. I spotted her all the way down by the fence line, moving as swiftly as she could toward the maintenance panel on her hands and knees. Overhead, a round of gunfire erupted, this time, close enough that the sounds echoed and made it difficult to tell where they were coming from. Rhiannon kept her head down and kept moving. I sprinted after her.
"What are you doing all the way out here?" I gasped.
"Have to get the power," she answered through gritted teeth. Her brow was sweaty and her hair clung to her cheeks. She looked like she was in pain, but she wasn't ready to give up.
"Tell me what to do. Let me do it."
She pointed at the panel and pulled a spool of wire free from where she had it looped over her arm.
"Open it. There will be a lug at the bottom where power comes in. You'll need to tie this off to it and then run it over to the launchpad I built. Make sure it has good contact. We can't afford any loose wires. We've only got one shot at this."
I went to do as I was told. And she turned herself around, starting the long crawl back toward the front step and the makeshift launcher. By the time I was done, she had barely made any progress, and I knelt to pick her up. She gave me a grateful look, but I could see the fear in her eyes. I wanted so badly to tell her that everything would be okay, but I couldn't find the words.
"Got it," I whispered, knowing that the least I could do was assure her that her plan was moving forward. I brought her back to the steps.
"Good. Now take the other end of that and connect it down there."
She pointed at a loose bundle of wires sticking out of the base of her contraption, and I looked at her doubtfully. "How?"
She told me which colors to combine and how to twist them together properly. She did it all with the calm demeanor of a brain surgeon. When I finished, I stood and she let out a long breath.
"One more thing. Load those bombs into the tube. All of them."
I did as I was told, working methodically, but still fearful that we could both be blown apart in an instant. When I was done, I wiped my sweaty palms on my legs.
"Can we go in now?"
She nodded absently, but her eyes lingered on the horizon. I lifted her for what I thought might be the last time, and cradled her in my arms as I stepped over the threshold and waited for her instructions.
